In the past, the so-called Qinglou has always existed in Xiao Yao's imagination, but now that he is really in it, that feeling is indeed indescribable. As a gentleman in the Qinglou, Xiao Yao thought that he was fully qualified to walk around here and there inside. However, he was told that his range of activities was limited to a small courtyard at Ximen Corner.

The eighth master told him that there would be a teaching time once a week, and Mao Xiang's main task was to give calligraphy and poetry classes to the girls in Yanyulou to cultivate and improve their artistic quality. "It's a very important job." Looking at Zhu Laoba's serious appearance, Xiao Yao also nodded solemnly: "I will definitely go all out." The eighth master patted him on the shoulder and left.

Xiao Yao was arranged to live on the second floor of an attic by the river, and he stood in front of the window, looking at the lights outside the window, and couldn't help but feel a little emotional. In the past, every time he came to the Confucius Temple to play, he always thought about how pleasant it would be if he could stay by the river one night. Sleeping on the old-fashioned carved wooden bed in the river house, listening to the sound of the boatman rocking the oars in the river, and singing tactfully in the pipa flicking, Xiao Yao slept well this night.

The location of the class is arranged on the first floor of an embroidery building in the courtyard, and there are a total of 20 girls, all of whom look neat and tidy, and it is not an exaggeration to say that the country is beautiful and fragrant. When he saw the girl in green, Xiao Yao couldn't help but rub his eyes, yes, it was the girl he met in the crowd. The girl's skin is like snow, and she looks a little like Zhu Yin, but compared to Zhu Yin, she is a little baby fat. Among tens of millions of people, Xiao Yao met her, and now she has met again, Xiao Yao has a feeling of overpowering.

"Shall you give your name?"

Xiao Yao basically came according to the routine of modern education.

He heard the girl in green report her name: Dong Xiaowan. couldn't help but ask: "Dong Xiaowan?" Xiao Yao saw the girl and nodded.

Looking at Dong Xiaowan's delicate and picturesque face, Xiao Yao had a sense of déjà vu, which made Xiao Yao's heart feel relaxed, and he smelled the fragrance of the March willows and the spring breeze.

The business of Yanyu Building is naturally excellent. There is an endless stream of people who come to find it every day, but there are naturally not many people who can really kiss Qin Huai Bayan. Xiao Yao observed, and most of the people he could see were talents, not imaginary tyrants. This made Xiao Yao a little surprised.

In Xiao Yao's view, Dong Xiaowan can be said to be a woman among women, no matter which man marries her, not to mention the green smoke from the ancestral tomb, it can also be regarded as accumulating great virtue in the previous life, and, most importantly, all along, whether it is the official history or the wild history, it is clearly written on it that Dong Xiaowan is the confidant of Mao Xiang. Thinking of this, Xiao Yao looked at Dong Xiaowan again, and there was a strange feeling in his heart that he couldn't speak, I have to say, this feeling is very good.

In reality, Xiao Yao actually only has a certain hobby of calligraphy and poetry, but after wearing it in the Ming Dynasty, he found that he was proficient in piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, and the most important thing is that he could improve it according to his own preferences. Before wearing it, he saw Mao Xiang's calligraphy works, and felt that the writing was really bad, so he wrote according to his own style, and wrote it so that the girls in the Yanyu Building applauded, and they all pestered him to learn. Xiao Wan looked at Hou Ruo's thoughts and said, "In my eyes, Mr. writes better than Wang Xizhi." ”